


The Carpace High Technologies and Robotics Club

by spatial_inaugural



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Tech Club AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2636960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spatial_inaugural/pseuds/spatial_inaugural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk Strider is a pretty chilled dude without many worries. However, although the previous years had sucked, how would this year of schooling be more significant among others? Well family issues, emotional issues, assignments and coming in through the doors of an open room in a high school with a bunch of strange people with strange egos, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Closing Night of Robotic Models Without Circuits

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first big planned thingy ma-jig on this site I suppose! I hope you guys enjoy it! 8 )

Seventeen year old Dirk Strider had not necessarily gotten over that peculiar incident of embarrassment in his particular group of which he cherished a quite developed happiness for. He had very well screwed up everything that the technologies group stood for, which was progressive futuristic invention and some actual fucking productive shit taking place in this modern era. He had gotten out his pen and designed yet more designs of bots of which would not screw him up in future for this one contest.

\-- Before --

This year seemed to be bright for Strider as he was was inserted into a more urban school as compared to his last one of which he was put into by his step-father of whom was a rather cocky yet serious man who seemed rather fixed upon his genetic children most of the time. It was clear that he didn’t necessarily appreciate the ‘obnoxiously hypocritical adolescent’ since from what Dirk was told by John, Mr Crocker had something of a kind of relationship with Dirk’s older brother that would be probably classified as unsatisfied. Was it because of those parties he was always holding at his mansion at full volume and the mature content he was making that normally had flying scrotums? Probably so.

Dirk’s older bro, of whom seemed really popular, was not something of an A-List star. Thus, media coverage was quite minimal to see, peering into the windows of the boy’s room. If there was anybody though, the serious step-father would simply just kick their ass and tell them to go the hell away. And they usually did as they went and sued Dad for multiple attempts of domestic violence. 

Strider mainly spent the days since his brother’s assassination in the room he had right between his step-sister, Jane’s and his step-brother, John’s. The majority of those twenty recovering scrap material from local bins near computer shops and making them into simple models of types for simply just the mechanical bodies that would hopefully seek to touch the ever-expansive amount of chords in its internal system. 

The school year would eventually begin the next day, the twentieth of February. All the material and equipment was collected that were necessary for the classes. 

By nine in the morning, a tired Dirk just leaned on the entrance of his messed room, feeling that was just something to do, resigning himself to thoughts that were never resolute. They only brought up more thoughts. Who would murder a celebrity who could be seen as an all-round decent twenty-seven year old? 

John came up the stair scuttling around the house in a fairly frustratingly annoying manner with a giant beagle puss, as many regular thirteen year olds do around this time when school was beginning to start. It seemed the father was yelling from downstairs. Frustrated perhaps?

Jane came up the stairs eventually as well, carrying a handful of pencils. Disdn’t seem to be a part of any suspicious activity. “I thought you already had enough of that stuff,” Strider said staring at the precarious amount of brands there were. BIC, Frixion, Faber-Castell . . . ‘Why would someone want to bring Faber-Castell pencils to school?’, He thought, ‘weren’t they plainly used for art?’

“Well you never know when I’d need a bit more when school starts tomorrow!” Jane said in her usual optimistic voice, “Besides, I do this a lot before school begins, haven’t you noticed?”

“Not really as it is not of my main concern or really any concern as of the current time,” Dirk replied a-matter-of-factly with a devious smirk. Jane just squinted her eyes. Dirk knew she still liked him as a step-brother.

It was only some time before lunch came around and the kids colonized down to the kitchen room. John was still talking to Dave over the phone he had. It was so weird how that kid’s friend had the same looks as him. Mr Crocker began asking for everyone to get their bags out. Dirk forgot his so he ran back upstairs to stay away from the family for a couple more seconds. He got his orange backpack, went back downstairs and waited as Dad made sure everything was in check, from pencils to books and other things. Luckily, it seemed Dirk didn’t go unsuccessfully unprepared this year.

The school he was going to was the one that his step-relatives went to, Carapace High. He was pretty damn near positive he was going into twelfth grade, which was where Jane was headed as well. Thank god that it was going to be the final year. John was still going to finish his schooling over at Carapace Middle though. Apparently what what he was told, most of the teachers over there were pretty nice. 

From Dirk’s experience from last year at Consort High, whoever taught there were complete fluffy assholes and did not necessarily care for the safety of their students. Their cafeteria was kind of an utter mess. Alright, so those were all untrue and it was just Dirk who made a complete utter disaster of some areas. As in, try to do something that would allow him to do more creations relevant to the area of robotics; over and over again until the school was blown up. Apparently, it was just too messy for the staff’s tastes. 

It seemed Dad was letting him go with where some of his family was going finally. Sure seemed hesitant to let him be anywhere near Jane in the past seven or something years. After everyone else was checked, the fedora freak pulled Dirk up for a speed ticket on lecture highway. Mainly just warning that if Jane was ever punished due to what he did, that Dad would just pull his skeleton out of whatever skin he had. Not threatening at all.

Two hours later, at presumably around three in the afternoon, John came into Dirk’s room, stepping carefully over some machinery parts, careful to not break anything of what had been brought from the local trash. “What goddamn service do you want me to give to you at this hour of great urgency, prank master?” Dirk asked, muffled with some nails in his teeth.

“Nothing!” John said, almost whining, “I just want to stay here for a while. That weird purple-shirted guy came over and he’s acting so much like a weird creepy stoner. . .”

Dirk tilted his head a bit, signaling for John to sit, of which he did. That Makara dude seemed pretty weird and Strider wondered how the hell he was still able to come over with how many times he broke the precious clowns the Crocker family kept. They were silent for a moment as the bumps and clicks were sounding from the screwdrivers. John interrupted in his normally boyish yet aggravating tone, “So how do you think homework and assignments will be like this year?” 

This caught Strider off guard for a while as he soon refuged back into his thoughts as he did four hours earlier, thinking about how it’d be this year. The school work last year was pretty shitty and bland, as it had not occurred to the blond-albino Strider that the skills could ever be used in future living. But then again maybe this school had a club or something like some others maybe had? 

John’s consistent waving upon his face with his primarily pale hand resulted in a final determination that Dirk should probably say something by now. “I dunno. Probably just gonna be harder seeing as how school is about making things as more difficult than they could ever be,” he answered, nailing in the final nail to the torso.

John nodded silently and then went back onto his phone yet again. He seemed to be playing some game that was one of the really crappy replicas to that dumb game, Flappy Bird. Jane had him play it and he seemed to fail miserably, as is expected by anyone else. Dirk was quite astounded by the stupidity some people had when it came to free games that were on the App Store that were fully recognized as being a waste of data.

During dinner later that day, two boxes of pepperoni pizza, to Dad’s dismay and generosity, were ordered as a small token of good-luck for everyone on their way back to a brilliantly terrible year of school, of which would annoy and stress pretty much every kid unnecessarily. Dirk took a slice and digested it, unmoved yet suddenly internally gracious of the repast. 

All the kids and Mr Crocker watched a bit of comedy shows on television for a couple before they went back to their bedrooms of where they just did stuff for a while. John was playing whatever frivolous games he was playing as Dirk was talking to Jane in her room. 

“I’ve heard there is a club from Roxy you could come along to where they do techy stuff!” Jane suggested as she took a bite from one of the nice-looking chocolate chip muffins she had made a few weeks ago. 

“Did she say that there was actually some kind of robotics there?” He asked with a moan. 

“Well maybe, but then again it seemed she was really pumped for you to come along!” she replied.

Dirk nodded and rolled his eyes. “I’ll think on it if Lalonde is that excited for whatever the hell will happen if I appear there.” 

Jane simply smiled and offered one. Dirk admitted he couldn’t resist as he picked another. They were pretty brilliant. 

The time for sleep came along eventually as the young Strider hopped into his rectangle of respite. Dirk looked upon the window and sighed a bit, looking back over at his models of robotic figure. “Hopefully this school year won’t be as painful as the others,” Dirk whispered to himself. 

And surely enough, that statement was slightly correct. It’d be emotionally painful, distressing and aggravating. But unlike other years, it’d be just one hell of a group of people he’d be meeting of whom he’d have a brilliant time working with.


	2. Or Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A morning already filled with enough thoughts. Or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally found the URL of the Tumblr post that inspired this fan-fiction:   
> http://humanstucks.tumblr.com/post/91166114222/that-one-year-when-they-were-all-in-high-school-at
> 
> The post and the blog may not be similar to what events may happen in the story of the sixteen year old Dirk Strider going through these natural transitions. We'll see how we go however and hopefully whatever text I type on this okay keyboard doesn't seem like total asinine gibberish. Or something.

Strider had gotten up from his peaceful sleep on his somewhat decent, one pillow-ed bed and had gotten up at around five fifteen in the dawn of morning to check that all his equipment (screwdrivers, spanners and other wares) were there. He was also one to hope that his young step-brother John had not woken up in the middle of the night and had stolen anything with the slowly 'maturing' fingers of his, of which he incessantly did before a normal day of school last year for his own 'experimentation'. Luckily though, it seemed the kid was actually maturing somewhat as there was not an absent piece of lead on the floor with a note saying ‘sorry’ and a small frown on the corner of the paper. 

Di-Stri started nailing onto some pieces of metal that were scattered around the room. Ideas of model creations would in some cases come to him one way or another, and they normally seemed to turn out in some sort of form similar to that of a human (or horse-like) figure. When making things for other people, kittens and bunnies were occasional. However, they were only done on Jane and Roxy’s requests. There was never any possible way that someone could create whatever the hell John asked for on a day-to-day basis. For instance, like a prankster gadget or anything similar to that. Besides, to argue the case in point, Dirk kept mentioning how he didn’t have any wires. Egbert would just keep complaining anyway and come back thinking that there were strips of red and blue round. This time, it seemed he was starting to make a cheekbone of some sort as the curve was starting to start. Unfortunately, it was just the same boring form here, nothing new. 

“Dirk! Could you stop with the clanking?!” yelled Jane from her room, seemingly not ready. Strider casually ignored the request as he was far more interested in seeing how this new model would work out. Eventually there was a knock on the door and there Jane was in her pyjamas, narrowing her naked eyes towards her stepbrother. She moaned not even wanting to complain and argue on her first exciting day back at fantastic school life.

A couple of hours faded into a sunny morning as although there was not a rush, there sure was an instinct to get things done. Dad loaded the car with bags that seemed heavy with the many textbooks, workbooks and stationery necessary for a pointless round of schooling that normally carries drama along with it. He didn't seem to act like he was in a rush anyway. It was as if the old man was actually not in an actually hurry it seemed. That was probably due to the job he got at the new law firm, where he quote, 'was put into a situation of mass comfort and so slight feeling of rush'. As which obviously applied to the present.

Eventually, all the kids were showered (Dirk never really liked the fact that he had these pimples on his chest that just grew there out of nowhere) and brushed their teeth (John, that dick decided to use the clearly orange toothbrush) and headed off to the schools they were perfectly aware would ruin them completely. In most cases, Strider was normally just given slurs and very pathetic verbal material, Jane was verbally harassed by some ass-hats in her class and John sometimes got beat up in the bathroom and given these bruises of which were the size of a tennis ball. It seemed that Dirk was going to get one hell of a beating if shit down at Carpace High is that bad. 

"Dad, what did you even put in these lunches in such a quick time?" asked John inquisitively. 

"Well, thank the lord we have Betty Crocker cupcake mix left from last Christmas!" replied Dad with the cheery family-bonding voice. 

Damn it was the blonde done with those cup-cakes that were not only repetitively shoved in the faces of those children. The cheers of excitement came from the vocal chords from the brother and sister of whom were obviously engrossed into shoving their mouths into another delectable piece of crap. Seriously, an hour from every day was spent by the household father spoiling his children. Fun thing also was that when Dirk would have come back downstairs to see what was left, there was a bite mark left by Dad. He'd say, "Sorry Dirk, my boy, just had to take the nearest one!"

What an asshole that guy was, stealing cupcakes and feeling as if he had the right to stick his forty-year old man gums in a perfectly fine meal. Who does he think he is? 

Thirty minutes later and the purple school came into view, with an interesting first look with toilet paper thrown around the whole towering area. Dad narrowed his eyes around to see if there were any cleaners around and unfortunately the guy could see way better if he actually didn't loose his prescription glasses when he was twenty-seven. Mr Crocker didn't get any new ones because apparently he claimed they were and they continue to be highly expensive and also he added no justification to his statement as to why he thought, 'there's just really no reason why glasses are even necessary'. As for contacts, Dad spat at the idea that a man would need some cover or whatever that'd be annoying to put in his eyes. 

Jane's bright blue sneakers lured the Roxy back to her striking position as she seemed ready to run the hell over to Jane if it had not been for Jake English, holding on to the cat girl's extensive scarf, who decided that it was probably the smartest idea to cancel out the idea in Lalonde's mind that running over to the road in front of the stereotypical jocks and idiots. Yet that only riled up the hyperactive teen even more as she screamed and waved in easily cohesive blurts of sound. "Janey! Janey! Janey!" she screamed, only in small volume to the occupants of the grey car. Dad only just pulled over to the cement so then he was able to drop his daughter and step-son off. "Now don't get into trouble you hear!" he yelled over to Jane and Dirk, who were getting their bags out of the only just recently opened car back. 

"Sure Dad!" Jane Crocker said with the happy tone. 

"'Kay," replied with his monotone and secret double finger crossing. Ms Crocker saw the hand gesture and made some odd thing with her eyebrows where it seemed she had sand in her eyes but then suddenly it disappeared and then it suddenly never even seemed to exist in the frame of existence.

Dirk got his bag, and stepped only a metre away from the wheels of the and he already felt he just set himself into a pile of those Gunmen from Gurren Lagann. He sure just hoped to hell that this year would end up being just a plain mess as always so then he could embarrass the people he lived with even more. All he just wanted to do was ruin the whole year for everyone else so then life seemed to be a pile of shit even more. So much so that he'd have to dig out the corpse of his own deceased body so then he would have some slight hope of surviving, of which funnily enough could be considered as efficient of a statement as saying that any politician does not have some slight stuff in their own country that they're ignoring the hell out of. 

With Roxy Lalonde hugging Dirk as if he was one of the plush toys that she insanely has crying fits over, Jake English waving looking like he was not ready for anything that would come up on the life destruction train and a bunch of buff greaser assholes surrounding the stairs, all this happening whilst Dirk was lost from the plane of reality, as he zoned out from the very plane everyone else was on, there was no sign that could prove this year of school was definitely a bomb waiting to make even more burnt shrapnels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty short and dumb right? Well, the first chapter was just basically like me having you to hold your hands up in the ol' Wild Wild Will Smith West. Did I just make a song reference? Yes, I just totally made a cruddy song reference. Moving on from the brief implementation of boring music puns (?), the bullets get smaller as Big Boy Zobersnoffer shoots you or something. Sometimes they are filled with potions that make you cry, sometimes they are literally made out of dog crap. But hell, let's admit, it'll just be bland as crap. Either that or the dog crap. Or something?

**Author's Note:**

> I feel you if you're confused about the whole system of ages of stuff like that. Well all the characters come about with the ages that were canonly shown on their introduction in the webcomic (John = 13, Jane = 16? etc). I'm kind of screwing it up with ages and grade levels and a whole bunch of gobble-de-goop but I'll try to make it all work in the end. Please forgive me for all of this stuffles.


End file.
